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A few minutes later, the door opened and Katy Bennington peered inside before smiling brightly.

“Lady Stephanie,” she said. “I was hoping you were in here. Uncle Bert said he thought you might be. Will you mind terribly if I join you?”

“Of course not,” Stephanie said, and the girl came to sit on the wrought iron seat opposite her.

“The little children are getting ready for bed,” Katy said. “But I will be twelve next month. I am allowed to stay up until nine o’ clock. I did so enjoy Christmas. You made the pageant so much fun. You and my cousin Winnie both.”

“It was fun.” Stephanie smiled at her.

“I so admire you,” Katy said. “I wish I could be just like you. I asked Mama if she could plait my hair and wrap it about my head like you do. She said it would need to be much longer, and even then would not make such thick braids as yours. I wish I had golden hair like you. I hate mine.”

Her hair was midbrown and always smooth and shining. It reached almost to her waist.

“I do not believe there is anything we can do about the color of your hair,” Stephanie said. “Yours does go well with the tone of your skin, though, and it matches your eyebrows, which have a lovely arch to them. I can tell you what I did with my hair, though, when I was your age. Actually, I was a bit younger. I was going to a special party, and my maid braided it and then twisted it at the back of my head. I thought it made me look very grown up, and I had numerous compliments on it. I can try to do something similar with your hair, if you wish. Not now, though. It is too late. Perhaps in my room one morning or afternoon?”

“Oh, will you?” Katy’s eyes lit up. “But I do wish I could be as pretty as you. I hate being ugly.”

The child was thin. She was also tall, something she had inherited, no doubt, from her father. She had a long, narrow face with a pointed chin and large dark eyes. She was a potential beauty, but clearly there would be no point in telling her so.

“What would you make different about yourself if you could?” she said. “Specifically your face. Mine is round—like the moon. And it is always shining, even my nose. I would have to wear cosmetics to dull the sheen, but I hate cosmetics. They cake.”

“Ew,” Katy said, pulling a face, and they both laughed before the girl turned serious again. “But it is you who shine,” she said. “Somehow it bursts through your skin and every part of you.”

Oh goodness. Really?

“It is something that has come with age,” Stephanie said. “I have learned to like myself and therefore to like the world around me too and almost everyone in it. I love everyone in the drawing room at this moment, and the children in the nursery. And you who are here with me. I love all the variety of the world around me. It is something I have chosen to do rather than allow myself to feel anger and resentment all the time. But this is not about me. Let us get back to business. You have an oval face with high cheekbones. Smile for me?”

Katy did. “Yes, indeed,” Stephanie said. “As I thought. Those cheekbones will gain definition as you grow into adulthood and give you a look of extreme elegance. If you wear your hair up, your neck will add to your elegance. It is rather long. Your dark eyes will help too. I never could be elegant, you know.”

“I am thin,” Katy said with a sigh. “Just look at my wrists.” She thrust them out. “And I am flat. My friend at home has a bosom even though she is less than a year older than me, and the boys are looking at her.”

“Ah yes, the boys,” Stephanie said. “Are there any of them you like?”

“Boys are so silly,” Katy said dismissively. “And spotty too.”

“So let them sigh over your friend,” Stephanie said. “Who needs them anyway? You will probably find over the next few years, though there are no guarantees, that you will acquire at least some of the curves you want and turn from thin to slim. But however you turn out, you know, you will always be the one unique Katy Bennington, with no one else in the world quite like you.”

“But I still wish I looked like you,” Katy said with a sigh.

“And I grew up wishing I could look as you do now,” Stephanie said. “Shall we try it? You be me and I will be you. How can we make your face round? By blowing out your cheeks? And how can I make mine narrow. By sucking in my cheeks? Let us do it together, shall we?”

Katy blew out her cheeks until her mouth became a dot in her face and her eyes bulged. Stephanie opened her jaws as wide as they would go without her lips parting to elongate her face and sucked in her cheeks. And they looked at each other—until, after a few seconds, air exploded from Katy’s lips and Stephanie snapped her jaws together, and they both collapsed in helpless giggles. Stephanie reached across the space between them and took Katy’s hands in hers and squeezed them.

Someone cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Nine o’clock looms,” Bertrand said, “and there are rumblings of half-panicked plans to organize search parties for one missing girl.”

“That would be me,” Katy said, sighing and getting to her feet. “How silly adults can be. Oh, not you, Uncle Bert, or you, Lady Stephanie. Just as if I were a child. I am going on twelve.”

“Abominable, is it not?” he said. “But it would probably be kind to save your mama from a heart seizure.”

“I will,” Katy said. “Good night, Uncle Bert. Good night, Lady Stephanie. Will you really do my hair for me? Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow or the next day,” Stephanie said. “I am looking forward to it. We are going to make you look like a young lady.”

The girl whisked herself away with a flashing smile for both of them.

“How strange we are,” Stephanie said.